


I’ve Got You Under My Skin

by nancyboy



Category: Dead Poets Society (1989)
Genre: Hollywood AU, I’d say 50s au but canon ks in the 50s, M/M, inaccurate representation of a time period (probably), teen and up for now.... idk where this is gonna take me.
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-29
Updated: 2019-11-21
Packaged: 2019-12-25 23:47:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18271565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nancyboy/pseuds/nancyboy
Summary: New city, new coast, new life. Todd Anderson is Hollywood actor Neil Perry’s newly appointed assistant. Neil Perry starts his new movie “The Cottage Pond”, along with some of his Hollywood friends. Todd learns what it’s like to be surrounded by people quickly.Update 11/23/19: Paused, will return sometime in 2020





	1. Part I, Chapter One - Funny How the World Works

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks catherine for editting my writing, as always. this chapter is dedicated to my dog teddy for giving me a kiss every morning.

It’s not until I place my suitcase full of everything I own on the bed of the hotel room that I’m not paying for that I realize where I am. I’m on the west coast, in Hollywood. I’ve never been here in my life. I’ve never been on a plane in my life. In fact, I can count all the places I’ve been on one hand. Other things were more important than vacations in my household.

It’s all thanks to Mr. Keating I’ve got this job. Oh, shouldn’t I call him John now, since I’m adult and all? No, that feels wrong. I’ll stick with Keating. It feels natural and it’s without the formality. I don’t need to have formality with him, and not because I don’t respect him. He’s just important, actually the most important. Does Keating’s generosity have a limit? Will he warn me if I take too much? No… no, it’s not good to think about these things. Still. It nags me.

Never in a million years would I have thought I’d be in Hollywood. I don’t think I’d even come here as a tourist. Cities aren’t for me. I don’t think I could even relax on a beach, you know, with all the people there. The only place I could imagine myself on vacation is in a cabin somewhere amongst the peace and quiet. Ideally, a vacation would be somewhere where I could get away from people. It’s not like I have many of them left, but still. I’d like to take a vacation away from the masses. Just me, myself, and I.

That’s where I am right now, kind of. I can pretend at least, in this Hollywood hotel room. No, that’s a joke. I can’t kid myself. There’s too much noise in the city to pretend anything. I’m bored out of my mind. What do people do when they’re bored? I’ve never gotten the chance to figure it out. In the past I was always busy, and when I wasn’t for a rare second I was thinking of something. What would my brother do, when he’s in a city all alone. Call up my parents, have a couple laughs, then go out on the town. Well, I can’t do that. So I guess I’ve got some thinking to do.

How about my job, then. That’s what brought me to this city. I’m gonna be an assistant. Does an assistant need to do much talking? I don’t do a lot of it. I guess it depends on who I’m assisting. Whether they like talking or they’d like to be left alone. I don’t know how Neil Perry is.

I went to high school with Neil Perry. It’s funny how life works out this way sometimes. We went to this private school. I didn’t really know him, until he left to pursue acting. Then Keating got fired for some reason. The school never told us why. I thought Keating would get another teaching job somewhere, because he’s amazing at it, really. Somehow, he ended up being Neil Perry’s agent. It really is funny how the world works sometimes.

Keating was the best teacher I ever had, period. I can say that with a level of certainty equivalent to a law of physics. It’s a stone cold fact that is impossible to dispute. There could have been no one better than Keating. There was something about him that just…. he just got me. It was like he could read my mind. It was kind of frightening. Most teachers dismissed my silence as negligence, laziness, something like that. They never saw how much I hated the attention. But Keating knew. Keating did the extraordinary. He got me to talk.

Was I mute? I don’t think I’d call it that. I mean, I talked when I had to. But that was it. I avoided talking at all costs. Didn’t want anyone to look at me. I made sure no one could get close to me so that they wouldn’t expect me to be my brother and I couldn’t disappoint them. I remember my first day of school, some teacher or staff member said to me that I had some big shoes to fill. Then I threw up in the boy’s lavatory across the hall. No one knew it was me, though.

Keating, though, he just… knew. He knew what I was feeling and how to make me feel comfortable. The only people in high school that could have possibly known me is people in my English class. Even though the thought that any of them had impressions of me should terrify me, but Keating cancels out the negative. Keating got us all to be passionate about poetry, even me. The silent kid. He got Knox Overstreet to write crazy love poems about that one actress girl and science geek Gerard Pitts to write poems that didn’t sound that shabby at all. He got me to start paying attention to my emotions. I still keep a notebook. My poems are stupid, but it’s nice.

I haven’t seen Mr. Keating since he got fired, but we kept in touch. I wrote to him a lot, and he wrote back when he could. I’d send him some poems I wrote sometimes too. He would praise every single one. I wonder if that was real, or if he was saying that because he felt sorry for me. No, it’s not good to think these things.

Still, I’m excited to see him again. Writing letters pales in comparison to talking to him. I’d even let him read my notebook if he wanted to. Maybe I’m just looking for something solid in my life.

I’m starting to psychoanalyze myself, which never ends that well. By now I’ve done way too much thinking. Too much sitting in silence. What’s the time? Wow, 12:09 A.M. I should sleep. I’ve got work in the morning

***

5:30 A.M. is when the alarm clock sounds. Then comes the wave of dread. I want to throw up. This was a bad idea. Terrible, no good, bad bad bad idea. I have to meet people and talk to them. I’ve gotten a good break from doing that recently. The last time I spoke with someone is when I made arrangements with Keating over the phone. Today I have to talk to more people. People I don’t know. I can’t even prepare myself because I don’t even know who I’ll be talking to. I don’t know how many people I’ll be talking to.

In middle school I had to give a presentation on tectonic plates for science class. That was the first time I had to speak like that in front of people. I was horrified. I remember I took a count of every single kid in my class. While people worked on their presentations in class, I observed every single kid in my class to see how they reacted to things. I’d just have to do the work at home. It worked, though. I was quiet and reserved, but I was able to get through it without floundering and breaking down. I got a B+. I was able to prepare. Now there are so many factors, so many variables, and I have no way to prepare myself. I end up puking in the hotel toilet.

I find myself wishing I didn’t take this job, but I had no other choice. I could only stay with my brother so long, and getting a place on my own would prove to be difficult with time limitations and the fact that I was broke. Luckily, Keating came to the rescue. I wrote to him about my situation, not begging for his help, rather asking for a solution. Then he gave me the offer. I couldn’t refuse.

I step into the shower. Beads of water fall on my back, but it’s practically white noise because I’m so lost in thought. Maybe I can predict one thing, at least, and prepare for that. Neil Perry. I’ve heard a few things about him from Keating. He likes literature, which is good because at least we’ll have that in common. He’s kind and eccentric. That should work, as long as he doesn’t think I’m boring. I’m grasping at straws here, but it’s actually working. Then I remember I’m supposed to wash my hair.

What do I even wear today? Nothing too formal, I think, but also nothing too casual. My head is spinning. I feel like anything I choose will look stupid. Then I tell myself to knock it off and throw on a button up shirt and some slacks. The thoughts are there still, but in the back of my mind now. Eventually I’ll learn to ignore them. How many buttons should I leave unbuttoned? I decide on one. No, two. Nevermind, one for sure.

It’s 6:17 A.M. now. The car is coming to pick me up in thirteen minutes. I’ll head down to the lobby in ten. I can feel my stomach start to hurt again, and I really hope I don’t throw up a second time. Especially after my shower. Who knows why I get like this. Well, more importantly, why does everyone else not worry about things? Why am I the weird one? Okay, yeah, it is pretty weird that I threw up over meeting people I didn’t know. I can’t control it, though. It just happens. I try to scribble in my notebook to pass the time but no words come out. I turn on the radio. The station it’s tuned to is playing Frank Sinatra. My Way. 

“I planned each charted course. Each careful step along the byway,” Frank’s voice sings from the radio. Yeah, me too, Frank.

I tune out the music for a while and idle there. And for a moment, I don’t think of anything. I should listen to music more often, I suppose. I could do with a break from thinking. Then after some time I check my watch and it’s 6:23 A.M. Time to head to the lobby.

The lady at the receptionist’s desk has to be no younger than 50, looking up from her magazine for a brief moment and then ignoring me. Some people would feel offended by this, but I’m more relieved. Just one less conversation I have to have today.

The chauffeur is early. 6:27 A.M. is when he arrives. It doesn’t bother me, because I am ready after all. But imagine if I was just coming to the lobby now. That would be embarrassing. He gets out of the car to introduce himself. Oh god. Here we go. My stomach. Please, God, I don’t wanna barf on this poor man.

“Hey, you must be Todd Anderson. I’m Steven Meeks, but all my friends just call me Meeks. Thought I’d introduce myself since we’re gonna be seeing a lot of each other,” he says, holding a hand for me to shake.

I take it. Are my hands too sweaty? Meeks doesn’t recoil in disgust, so I take that as a good sign. Oh crap, I just realized I haven’t said anything. “Nice to meet you too.” I say. It sounds kind of squeaky. Meeks doesn’t seem to mind.

He chuckles. I hope he’s not laughing at me. “There’s no need to be nervous, kid,” he says as if he’s not around my age. “You couldn’t piss Neil Perry off if you tried. He’s stubborn. Plus if you’re cool with Keating, you’re cool with him.”

So me and Neil have the same motto. I sigh, slightly relieved. “Thanks. I just work myself up over this kind of thing.”

“Yeah, Keating mentioned that,” Meeks says, opening the door for me. I climb into the car without a word. I should be mad about that, but I know Keating and I know he wouldn’t spill too much. He still won’t tell me why he got fired. I guess he’s protecting someone.

Meeks navigates the city streets with ease, a talent I find dazzling because they look just about impossible to me. I guess Meeks should be good at it. It’s his job to drive, after all.

“So, what do you think of Hollywood?” Meek asks. Small talk, a true plague of human existence.

“It’s, um, okay. I mean, I’ve seen the airport and a hotel so far. Pretty cool, I guess.” I answer.

Meek laughs. He thought I was funny? I wasn’t even intentionally being funny.

As we drive, I think about the rest of my day. I’m going to meet Neil now. At 9:00 A.M. I’m accompanying him to a read through of his latest movie. 1:30 P.M. we have lunch reservations with the cast. I thinks Meeks and Keating will be there too. That’s three people I don’t feel too terrible being around. That’s relieving. Then after lunch is over, I bring my suitcase to Neil’s place. I’m moving in with him. Then the rest of my time is unknown until 6:00 P.M., when Neil is set to make an appearance at some party. I have to attend it with him. Then after that—

“Keating’s right. You are quiet,” Meeks says casually, interrupting my thoughts. 

“Huh? Oh. Uh, yeah,” I say, cheeks burning with sudden self consciousness.

“He says that you open up after some patience. Luckily we’ve got a lot of time for that.” He smiles. “I think you’ll like Neil. It’s so easy to warm up to him. That man has more charisma than anyone else I’ve met. And I’ve met Chris Noel.”

Chris Noel… that name sounds familiar. Oh right, now I remember. That was that teen actress Knox Overstreet used to obsess over. Knox also has an acting career, albeit not as big as Neil’s. He’s only played a few minor roles so far. I wonder if I’ll run into him again now that I’m in Hollywood. I doubt he’d even remember me, though.

We arrive at the agency. Keating’s in there. I feel giddy. This must be how a dog feels when his family comes back after a week long vacation. Except for me it’s been three years. Dogs feel time differently than us humans anyway. Maybe a week could be three years to a dog. Can you imagine? Time already moves way too slowly.

Meeks comes to my side of the car and opens the door for me. It didn’t dawn on me before because I was so nervous, but this feels weird. Having someone open a car door for me. Someone that’s being paid to do it, not just someone who’s doing it to be chivalrous. Hollywood is messed up. He then opens the agency’s door for me. Weird. The bell rings, and I step inside.

There he is, sitting on the couch waiting. His eyes light up when he says me, and mine do the same. I feel like I’m seventeen again.

“Todd Anderson! Long time no see!” He comes over and hugs me, patting my back. “No, really. Too long.” He says, pulling away.

I smile back at him. All my nerves have vanished. “I missed you so much Keating. You don’t even know.” It feels weird not calling him Mr. Keating to his face.

He smiles warmly at me. “I’m looking forward to catching up with you, Todd.” He claps his hands together. “Meanwhile, you have your boss to meet. He’s in my office.”

I follow Keating into his office. Sure enough, there sitting at the desk is Neil Perry. I think I saw him in a movie last year, now that I think about it. I don’t watch a lot of movies but I saw this one. It was about a poet who traveled across the country. It won some awards I think. Or so I’ve heard. It was a good movie. I liked that movie.

“Neil, this is Todd.” Keating introduces me. Neil gives me a once over and smirks at me.

I can see why he’s a star. I mean, I don’t have the largest sampling size of his acting, but based on looks alone you can just see it. He has a radiance that would be abnormal from the average person. He sits there with a button up shirt with about three or four unbuttoned buttons (he's a star, he can be more loose), some nice slacks, and a neckerchief around his neck. And he’s got these soulful brown eyes that are piecing into mine. Oh, he’s expecting me to say something.

“I, uh... um… well, it’s nice to meet you, um, Neil. And I’m glad, well, I mean it’s a pleasure to be working with you.” I stammer. Great, I’ve made a fool of myself. In front of a movie star.

He chuckles lightly. “It’s nice to meet you too, Todd.” He stands, putting his hands in his pockets. “Crazy how we went to the same school, and we’re only meeting just now.”

I nod back, deciding words aren’t my friend right now

“Funny how the world works huh?” He says. I was thinking the exact same thing.

“I… uh… I knew your good friend, though. Knox Overstreet. He was in my English class.” I say, wringing my hands. Nervous habit.

“Oh really?” He smiles. “Knox and I haven’t been able to talk in a while. Conflicting schedules. But actually, he’s gonna be on the next movie I’m working on. As in the one I’m going to read through today. We’re both gonna be able to catch up with him.” 

I don’t have the heart to tell him that Knox and I never talked, and Knox likely doesn’t remember me. I’m sure he’ll be too preoccupied with his own busy schedule to focus on me.

“Speaking of that read through, you two should really get going. Meeks is waiting,” Keating says, patting us both on the shoulder. “I’ll see you at lunch.”

I nod curtly. Neil and I walk out to the car. Meeks opens the door for us and we climb in. On to the next task of the day. On to meeting more people. I can already feel my stomach starting to churn. 

Neil and Meeks get into a conversation about pets. I tune out most of it, including what got them to this point.

“I met a guy once that had a pet snake. Crazy.” Neil says.

“Some rich people keep cheetahs as pets. And alligators”

“I think that’s cruel.”

I start to count the things I know about Neil in my head. He’s best friends with Knox Overstreet, he likes Keating, he likes poetry, we went to the same high school, he was in that poet movie, he knows a guy that has a pet snake, and he thinks owning cheetahs and crocodiles are cruel. 

***  
The read through was way more interesting to sit in on than I thought it would be. Turns out Neil actually knows most of the cast. The movie is about this girl, played by Chris Noel, who moves into her dead grandmother’s cottage in the woods. She then meets a magical fairy-like creature, played by Neil, and he shows her wonderful and terrible things. I think it’s supposed to give her a sense of reality or something. The director is this Charles Dalton guy who Neil’s worked with before, apparently. He thinks he’s a real comedian, and he’s kind of intimidating because he’s so sure of himself. Neil swears he’s sweet deep down. Oh, and Knox Overstreet is there too. He remembered me after all. “Weren’t you that quiet kid?” He said. Knox plays some other fairy character or something, I can’t quite remember.

So here we are, meeting up at this really nice French restaurant. Most of us are underdressed, but on the other hand most of us are Hollywood elite. 

This guy meets up with us that wasn’t on set. Isn’t that? 

“Chet, this new guy is Todd. He’s Neil’s assistant. Todd, this is my boyfriend, Chet. You’ve probably heard of him, though. He’s got a big album out right now.” Chris says, gesturing between me and Chet.

Chet looks at me suspiciously. I gulp nervously. I do not want to mess with this guy.

“Nice to meet you, Chet.” I say, holding out my hand. He shakes it, rough and with too much force. Ouch.

“Yeah,” he says in response and sits down next to Chris, swinging an arm around her. I really don’t want to steal your girlfriend, Chet.

“You know, Todd being here reminded me of something. Meeks, Charlie, Chet, Chris…” he pauses for a brief moment. I’m not the one you should be worrying about, Chet. “Did you know I was once a poet?” Knox says, folding his hands on the table.

Charlie snorts. “You? A poet? Please, I’d be quicker to believe Babe Ruth was a poet.”

“It’s true,” Keating says. “I believe anyone can be a poet, and Knox was far from inable.”

“You hear that Charlie? I’m far from inable!” Knox retorts. Charlie sticks his tongue out at him.

Knox clears his throat. “Anyway, like I was saying, I used to be a poet.” He waits for a reaction. It’s awkward silence.

“That’s great, Knox,” Chris says, but she doesn’t really mean it. She’s saying it to be nice and to alleviate the tension. Despite this obvious fact, Knox absolutely beams. It’s great to see Knox hasn’t changed at all.

The waiter comes and takes our orders. Charlie orders the most expensive thing on the menu, advising us all to, “take advantage when other people are paying.” Keating looks annoyed, which is only natural since he’s the one paying.

Most people then go into their own conversations. Meeks and Neil are talking about foreign languages. Neil’s considering learning Spanish. Keating is listening in and commenting every once and while. Chet and Chris are quietly discussing something. The interaction appears hostile. Charlie is teasing Knox, who is giving Charlie the exact reaction he wants. I really don’t have a place in any of these conversations, so I just sit in silence taking small sips of water until Keating calls my name.

“Todd. We need your opinion on something,” Neil says. “Dickinson or Whitman?”

“Obviously Dickinson. Her poems age much better.” Meeks says, taking a sip of his cola.

“You see, I disagree. I think Whitman’s poems age nicely.” Neil says.

“Well—” Meeks tries to protest but Keating shushes him.

“Let Todd comment,” Keating says. He’s pushing me, just like how he did when I was seventeen. He wants me to socialize. Fine, I’ll do this for you, Keating. No one here seems that bad. Except Chet.

“Well, I really like both of their work. And—” I start to say, but Meeks interrupts me.

“That’s not the point! Just pick one!” Meeks shouts.

Keating shushes him again. “I think Todd is about to make a good point.”

I clear my throat and take another sip of water, suddenly hyper aware of all the eyes on me. “Well…..” I gulp. “I think they’re too different to compare. They wrote for different reasons and they had different styles.”

Neil looks at me like how a kid does when their parent has the exact answer to their question. “You’re right.” 

“So…. yeah.”

“Well, I still personally prefer Dickinson.” Meeks asserts.

Neil rolls his eyes. “Good for you.” He sounds annoyed but he's smiling. Then Meeks and Neil dive into another topic that I don’t have a place in. I think that’s enough socializing for me. And just in time, our food comes out. 

I eat quietly, to myself. I ordered a sandwich called a “croque-monsieur”. Everything else was something really unfamiliar. At least the description of croque-monsieur sounded like a grilled cheese with ham on it or something like that. Reflecting back, I should have asked Keating what he recommended before the waiter came. Still, the sandwich isn’t too bad. 

“I’m excited to work on this film. I mean, look at all the beautiful young people we have working on it,” Charlie says with his mouth full.

Chris, on the other hand waits until she swallows to respond. “Me too. It’s nice to meet some of you. I mean, I’ve worked with Neil before, but not Charlie and Knox.”

“I’m excited to be working with you too Chris!” Knox says, beaming at her. Seems like he’s mistaking her politeness for something deeper. Neil looks at me, and like he knows what I’m thinking he glances towards Knox and rolls his eyes. I smile at him. We have a joke between us. That feels nice.

“We even have beautiful young people working for our star,” Charlie says, again with his mouth full of food. “Good old Meeks, and the new kid. Todd.”

I suddenly feel everyone's eyes land on me. My cheeks burn and my stomach twists.

“Seems like I’m the only non beautiful young person at this table.” Keating jokes, and suddenly the eyes are off of me again and everyone's laughing. Keating to the rescue once again. 

Lunch wraps up soon after that, or at least I zoned out from that point until now. Charlie tries to push for desert, but Keating tells him they’ll get desert another time. Charlie pouts like a child. We all say our goodbyes. Chet gives me a parting glare, and I don’t understand why he thinks that I’m going to steal Chris away from him. It’s Knox he should be worried about. He’s enamored with her. Chet takes Chris’s arm roughly as if to prove something, and they leave together.

Charlie leaves next, saying he has some important director stuff to take care off. Neil looks skeptical. “Hey, drinking champagne in a hot tub is important director stuff, Perry. Without a happy director, the film will suffer,” Charlie says.

“Sure thing, Charlie,” Neil says. Charlie gives us a wink and exits the restaurant. Then it’s just me, Keating, Meeks, and Neil.

Keatings leaves separately from us because he took his own car. “Goodbye, Todd, Neil. Have a good time at the party later.” He looks at me cautiously. He knows how much I don’t want to go. Keating leaves without another word.

“Well, boys, it’s time for me to drive you two home, with a quick stop at Todd’s hotel room.” Meeks says. Neil and I follow him out to the car. 

Then we go to the hotel. The lobby looks different now. Is Hollywood changing me that much already? We ride the elevator up to the 7th floor, because that’s where my room is. I know that, but I don’t remember it. Huh, I really don’t remember things very well, do I?

We go into the hotel room. It’s a quick chore, because I don’t have anything at all. Just a toothbrush in the bathroom I have to pack. Neil is staring at my suitcase.

“Is that all you have? I thought Keating said you were bringing all your stuff out here.” Neil asks curiously.

“That is all my stuff.” I say, looking at my sole suitcase self consciously.

“Oh.” He says, cheeks pinking in embarrassment. I hate this. I made him feel embarrassed. 

Neil clears his throat. “Well, let’s get back down to the lobby then.” He heads for the door

“I’m not…” I sigh. Neil pauses and turns around to look at me. “I’m not materialistic. Most of the things that matter to me are in my head.”

Neil smiles at me. “That’s beautiful.”

“Is it?” I ask, rubbing my arm sheepishly.

Neil nods. “Yeah.” He then opens the door and exits. I follow him, dragging my suitcase behind me. We ride the elevator down in silence. It isn’t awkward, no, it’s comfortable. I think he knows by now that I like to be quiet.

Check out goes quickly, thank god. The receptionist is different too. This one is much nicer. “Have a safe trip”, she says. I tell her I’m not leaving at all. Her mouth makes an ‘o’ shape. “Well then, have a nice time in Hollywood.” She doesn’t seem phased by the presence of a movie star behind me. Keating mentioned this hotel is celebrity friendly.

Then Meeks opens more doors for us and we’re on our way to Neil’s place. “Who’s going to be at that party later?” Meeks asks. Small talk. It’s more tolerable when I’m not being expected to participate.

“No one you know. It’s for charity, or something. Keating didn’t give me all the details. It’s not formal, that’s all I know.” Neil responds. He stares out the window. “Want me to get you in?”

“No, it’s not worth going. Besides, I’m supposed to drive Charlie to some music thing. He’s making me go with him too. Says it’s going to be full of girls, though.”

“I don’t know why you two care so much about flirting and all that. Don’t you believe in true love at all? Soulmates and all that.”

“No, all of that’s bogus. I’ll get married and all when I’m not so young.” Meeks says. He makes a left turn.

“I don’t think it’s bogus. I want to believe in something greater that connects us to people. I have a feeling Todd believes in true love, too.”

I look up at the mention of my name. Neil is staring at me, expecting me to answer. I clear my throat.

“Well. I think…. Yeah, I do. Maybe I just want to believe in it, but I do,” I say, avoiding eye contact. I think Neil has a superpower of seeing into souls, because some of his observations are uncanny. He’s okay and all, but I can’t let him see into mine yet. My cheeks feel hot. Luckily, Neil and Meeks have already gotten into a new conversation. Something about Latin. I tune it out.

Then we park, and Meeks opens the doors for us. Meeks says goodbye and leaves. Now it’s just me and Neil. Neil’s place is a penthouse apartment on the outskirts of the city. We have another quiet elevator ride, though this one’s longer. Neil’s apartment is on the fifteenth floor, number 1509. Neil fumbles with keys and we step inside. It’s real big. It must have like, the square footage equivalent of a small house. 

A small tabby cat comes and smells me curiously. After it’s sure I’m not a threat, it rubs against my leg. How can cats tell who will hurt them and who won’t? I’d sure like to know.

Neil bends over and pets it. “This is Captain. He eats wet food every morning at seven, then dry food at night at eight.”

Right, that’s my job. I assist him. 

Neil crosses the room to a window sill, with a lot of plants on it. He goes over each one, telling me what it requires. I go over to my suitcase and rip a blank page out of my notebook. I write down the plant instructions. Captain’s feeding schedule too, for good measure.

“That’s all the tasks I have for you so far. I’ll let you know if I need anything else. I’m not used to having an assistant. It’s something I’ll have to learn.” 

I nod. “For the record, I’m not used to being an assistant,” I say, but the statement feels very awkward. Neil laughs, though.

Neil leads me into a bedroom. It looks like it’s never been touched. “Here’s your room. It’s clean. I’ve only had to use it on a few occasions. You can do whatever you want with it. I’m not strict. I just prefer that if you end up bringing girls home, you let me know,” He explains.

“Bringing girls home? Well, I mean, I...” I ask. I know full well what he means. I’ve never even had a girlfriend though. I used to be so busy. 

“Oh, just saying to be safe. I didn’t think you were that kind of guy anyway,” Neil clarifies. “I’ll leave you alone now to unpack. I think I’ll nap before the party. Wake me up at five, okay? Oh, and since you’ll be with me at the party, just feed Captain his dry food before we leave.” 

I nod to let him know I heard. He exits the room, my room, I suppose. I unpack my stuff, wondering when this room will start to feel like it’s mine. It’s only 3:13 now, what should I do? Then I notice a bookshelf in the corner with some poetry books. My old friend Walt can help me pass the time and cope with all the new things that are happening so fast.

***

I wake Neil up at 5 like he asked. He gets ready for the party, settling for a plain tshirt and jeans. Now I’m overdressed.

“Should I change?” I ask him.

He looks me over. The room gets hotter by a degree or two. He purses his lips in thought. “The shirt’s fine. Change into jeans, though.”

I nod and go into my room to change. I only have one pair of jeans. I hope they’re okay.

I come back and Neil looks at me in thought. He then walks over to me and unbuttons one of the buttons on my shirt. I don’t like him this close to me. It’s uncomfortable. Unfamiliar.

He steps back. “There.”

Meeks calls us down, then. I feel like I’m gonna throw up again. I was doing real well, too. Every instinct in me is telling me to run far, far away, but I end up following Neil to the car.

The car ride is a blur. Neil and Meeks talk about something but I don’t pay attention at all. All I can think about is where I’m going and every single way tonight can go wrong. I’ve avoided parties in my life thus far, just because the mere thought of attending them makes me feel like a lab rat in a maze, the kind without cheese at the end.

We get to the party. It’s at some country club, the kind of place that would hold your senior prom. I didn’t go to prom, though, so I wouldn’t know for sure. I follow Neil as closely as I can. He’s the only person I know here, I need him. I can’t do this alone. 

Neil goes around the party and begins to socialize. A waiter comes and gives us cocktails. Me and Neil aren’t 21. Neil doesn’t take one. I do, though. And I drink it fast. I’ve never drank before, so I really have no idea what’s gotten into me. I follow Neil around as he chats. I don’t pay any attention to any word from any conversation. I can’t possibly do that when I have to focus on not vomiting. I think Neil introduces me a couple times. Maybe I shake a few hands. Who knows? I’m on autopilot. I get offered all sorts of hors-d’oeuvres, but I refuse all of them. Can’t eat, eating will make me vomit. I absolutely cannot vomit, not here. I’m a wreck right now, but luckily Neil doesn’t notice. He’s too busy making appearances. 

Neil is talking to some ginger girl. Then some guy with a camera around his neck comes over. “Can I steal him for a sec?” He asks the girl, as if she owns him. She says she doesn’t mind.

I try to follow them, but then they walk into an area that’s roped off. A bouncer stops me from entering.

“I’m Neil’s assistant.” The words flow out of my mouth in an instinctual way, like breathing or blinking. 

The bouncer shakes his head. “No exceptions.”

I make eye contact with Neil, who’s beyond the barrier yet still in my line of sight. I book it to the bathroom.

It feels great to vomit when you’ve been repressing it for so long. It’s bittersweet, though, because now I feel mortified. What kind of guy can’t handle a tame charity party? I wonder if I can blame the alcohol. No, I only had one cocktail. Not even a first time drinker throws up after one cocktail.

Someone else enters the bathroom. I flush the toilet quickly, hoping to God there’s nothing on my face or in my hair. I hope it isn’t someone that recognizes me.

It is. It’s Neil. Oh god, everything I’ve done right is going to be in shambles. I won’t be surprised if he fires me on the spot. If I can’t handle a stupid party how am I supposed to be his assistant? I kind of want to puke again.

I prepare myself to be berated, but Neil doesn’t do that. Instead, he kneels next to me, looking at me with concern in his eyes. “Are you okay? Sorry I couldn’t get here faster. It was hard to excuse myself.”

I look up at him. When a wolf sees its prey in a vulnerable state like, it goes in for the killing blow without hesitation. I guess Neil’s not a wolf. It isn’t worth it to lie to him, so I shake my head no. No, I’m not okay.

He sighs. “Keating was concerned that you wouldn’t take this well. I’m sorry for bringing you. It was selfish of me. I was just hoping for someone to talk to if I got bored and escaped to a quiet area. Keating said you were a good English student, so I figured it would be a good conversation.”

That would have been really nice. “I-I’m sorry. I’ve never done this before. And these people are so intimidating. I couldn’t adjust. Then you left and I couldn’t control myself anymore and I freaked out. I’m sorry,” I say, not looking him in the eyes. I’m wearing my heart on my sleeve already, so I fear what else he can find by looking in my eyes. Also I can’t bare to face the shame.

Neil smiles warmly. “It’s alright Todd, really. This is a terrible party. I’ve been bored out of my mind all night. Too bad I couldn’t find a way to escape.”

Neil likes to escape too. We have a lot in common. Keating sure is smart about these things.

Neil sighs again and looks at me. I look away. “Do you want to go home?”

I nod. I’ve been wanting to go home since we arrived.

“Yeah. Me too. I’ll have someone call Meeks. My cat is sick.” He winks, and then exits the bathroom. 

I walk over to the sink to wash my hands. I get this feeling for the second time, like I’m seventeen again, but Keating is nowhere around here. Then it dawns on me. Neil understands me. Neil is just like Keating. It’s a nice feeling. An amazing, relieving feeling. I have another person in my corner now. Maybe Hollywood is taking a step towards feeling like home, because now I feel like I have a family here. Keating and Neil. For the first time today, my stomach is completely still. It really is funny how the world works.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this fic is named after the frank sinatra song. no real connection to the lyrics or inspiration, I just love sinatra. I estimate chapter two coming out late next week. thanks for reading! xoxo.


	2. update pt 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SOME THINGS

DO NOT be scared! I am not announcing this abandonment! I just am putting it on the back burner for a little bit. It's got a lot of story plot involved, and I need to take a break from this for now. In the mean time, I'm gonna write a smaller multichaptered fic (enjolras x grantaire though, sorry dps fans ;'-( ) in the mean time to build up some writing. So ! In a few months you may see chapter 2 pop up! I think I'm at elast going to try to finish chapter 2 of this fic bc its around 80% done at the moment. Idk if anyone besides a few of my friends care about this, but- this is good news. It will come in a few months. Also college is really tough :-( so this fic will probably progress very shortly.


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